


Closed Enough Windows

by Everythinghere



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Engagement, Fluff, Harry is lost and drunk, They play candyland, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, anxiety/panic attacks, draco is scared of commitment, drunk (at first), little angst, moving in, not very graphic attacks at all, seriously grossly sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 10:02:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19827847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everythinghere/pseuds/Everythinghere
Summary: He had been confident about his future with Draco. They’d been together for a year; he figured they’d move in with each other soon, then in another year or so they’d be engaged. He had no idea Draco was so far from the same page as him.





	Closed Enough Windows

**Author's Note:**

> This is very very very fluffy. I’m obsessed with gross pet names and I tried very hard to keep it under control. I think I will start writing asexual Harry/Draco because I can barely write kissing scenes, nonetheless anything ~steamy~. I’ve hardly ever been anywhere interesting but this past week I was in DC and I saw new and amazing things so my creative brain is screaming!!! Also the title is a lyric from Carry On by fun because I’m super unoriginal with titles and that song is on my writing playlist and it was a little fitting. Anyway, enjoy, person who is definitely not reading this!!!

“Harry, please, we shouldn’t even be talking about this right now, come on.” Draco’s clumsy, desperate hands grasped at Harry in an unsuccessful attempt at keeping him from turning away. He was easily shaken off, and Harry, barely able to walk normally due to the alcohol flooding his system, made his way to the exit.

The fresh air was a relief after being in the overcrowded, intensely loud club that Draco had talked him into going to. He took a lung full, the weight on his chest making it more difficult than it should have been. He looked from side to side and had no idea which direction to take to go home, so he went right and hoped for the best.

The air was thick and hot, it weighed on Harry in coupling with Draco’s words.

“We can’t live together, Harry.”

It had been blunt. He didn’t say he was sorry, he offered no explanation. He delivered it as if he were telling Harry which Hogwarts house was superior. As if any other answer never crossed his mind. As if the mere consideration was ridiculous.

Harry felt drops on his cheeks. He knew he should be bothered and wipe the tears away, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It took him two whole minutes to realize that not all the drops were coming from his eyes. It was raining. He didn’t care about that either.

He kept walking down unfamiliar streets, not even paying attention as his eyes stayed on his shoes and his thoughts on the one sentence that crushed him.

He had been confident about his future with Draco. They’d been together for a year; he figured they’d move in with each other soon, then in another year or so they’d be engaged. He had no idea Draco was so far from the same page as him.

Harry felt a sob rip his chest open and stupidly let himself dwell on the plans he’d had. He pictured what their house might have looked like, wondered what kind of rings they might’ve gotten, contemplated wedding themes and colors, pondered children’s names.

He mourned for that future. Not because it wouldn’t be with Draco, but because if Draco didn’t want that, he had no choice but to forget about it. He couldn’t lose Draco. The mere possibility of them breaking up had Harry’s breath coming in short gasps, his hands cold and clammy.

No. He would just tell Draco to forget he said anything and work on banishing those hopes from his own mind. He’d give it all up. Draco was his one and only. Nothing was more important than keeping him.

… …

“Potter, breathe, everything is okay. Weasley is fine, we just put him in a room. He’s awake and he told me to tell you it doesn’t hurt and he’s fine,” Malfoy’s voice was so soft, almost a whisper. Harry tried to let it soothe him.

After the war, Harry had become a Healer, along with Draco Malfoy. He found that being an Auror wasn’t an appealing option anymore and being a Healer gave him the opportunity to continue helping people. The only problem being that Harry was sent into a panic attack any time someone he loved was hurt, and his best friend, being an Auror, was hurt quite frequently.

“Breathe with me. I won’t let you go in there until I know you’re calm enough to handle it.” Malfoy took deep breaths in and out, making it dramatic so Harry could follow his lead. The anxious man was slowly getting control, until he let his mind drift back to the blood on Ron’s face and his breaths once again became sharp gasps. “Shhh, it’s okay, you’ll get it back. Stay focused, forget about everything else going on, it’s just us two, okay? In…out… ” Harry felt it was worryingly effortless to focus solely on Draco; on the breaths rushing in and out of his impossibly soft looking lips. What had he been panicking about? “In…out. Good.” Malfoy wore a satisfied and relieved smile.

Harry watched as his old enemy—new friend’s shoulders relaxed and the warm hands on his arms disappeared. “Sorry, I’m working on getting more control. Um...thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Malfoy placed one hand back on his arm in reassurance before walking away.

… … 

Harry was on a mission, and completely lost. His drunkenness was slowly being rained out and he desperately needed to figure out where he was so he could find his boyfriend. He recognized a street name, “Belon Road,” and realized he was a block from Ron and Hermione’s flat. He quickened his pace.

Upon arrival, he dug the key they had given him out of his pocket, thanking past Harry for thinking to bring it with him in case of an emergency. He let himself in and tiptoed toward the fireplace in the living room. The lights were all off, but he managed to find the pot of floo powder.

He hesitated. He should leave a note, but then they’d ask questions and Harry didn’t want to tell them of this new development, or lack thereof, with Draco. They’d only tell Harry things he didn’t want to hear. He decided against a note and flooed to Draco’s. The tight, uncomfortable feeling went unnoticed, as it had for years, and he landed in the familiar fireplace gracefully. He stepped out, calling  _ Draco _ softly, refusing to let the darkness unsettle him.

The flat was empty and Harry felt its state reflected inside of him as he realized Draco must have stayed at the bar. His heart heavy, he slouched back to the fireplace, barely able to speak his location through the desolation in his throat.

Harry failed to notice that the lights that he turned off before leaving for the club earlier that night, were now on. He simply let the ocean fall down his cheeks as he made his way to his awaiting bed, hoping to sleep for as long as it took until he forgot this night completely.

“Harry...”

It was quiet, breathy--Harry jumped and his head snapped up, eyes previously trained on the ground. Draco stood right in front of the foot of the bed, the golden light from Harry’s bedside lamp making one half of his face shine with moisture, the other shrouded in a shadow. “Draco..”

Silence.

“I thought--” Harry swallowed-- “I thought you… I went to your flat. I-... just forget it all, Draco, please. I don’t care, I really don’t, please just don’t let this ruin us. I’m sorry I said anything, fuck. I need you, so just forget it, please. Please?” Harry’s voice was so shaky, he wondered if Draco could even understand him. He supposed it didn’t matter, because Draco was in front of him now, wiping the tears from his cheeks, eyes pinched.

“Harry, no, shhh. I want to, baby. I’m so sorry, I want to.” Harry shook his head violently.

“No, don’t do that. You just feel bad. You don’t want to, it’s okay. You’ll resent me, please don’t. We can… we can just forget it. I-” Harry’s messy scramble of words was discontinued as soft lips slowly and gently pressed to his own. They were gone far too soon.

“I mean it, love. I want to. I was only--” Draco dragged in a deep breath, his eyes flicked to the ceiling briefly-- “scared. You caught me off guard and I let the anxiety speak first. I’m scared, Harry, because... I love you.” And it was the first time Draco had said that; Harry’s lips parted slightly in wonder.

… … 

It had been a nothing day; a Tuesday. Neither of them had work, and so they spent the whole day curled up on the couch together, reading, watching Disney movies that Draco was not-so-secretly in love with, and talking in hushed tones about everything from “Why would Elsa  _ throw  _ her crown? She could sell it, at least,” to “What was it like… growing up with parents?”

It was coming to a slow, sweet end with a bouquet of sunset colors spilling from Harry’s curtainless windows. They had migrated to the middle of the living room floor, coffee table pushed aside, laying on blankets, a board game between them.

“This better be a bloody fucking joke, Harry. I’m about to win, how do I have to go back to that bitch’s literal nut house!?” Draco threw the offending card, adorned with a sweet, smiling old lady, at the colorful Candyland board and slammed his piece down on the space with the peanut on it.

“It’s just how it works, babe,” Harry barely managed through his giggles as he moved his own piece five spaces ahead.

“This is fucking stupid, it’s just luck!” Draco’s pout was nothing short of adorable.

“We can stop right now—” Draco looked elated at that suggestion—“but only if you agree that I win fair and square.” His face fell automatically.

“Nothing about this game is fair or square, but fine! You win,” Draco’s grumbling was silenced as Harry easily slid the board away from them and leaned forward. His left hand supported his weight on the hardwood floor, and his right glided up Draco’s cheek until his fingertips rested on the outer shell of his ear. Their lips joined beautifully and Harry felt his insides swell sweetly. This was his favorite feeling. This was better than anything else ever had been and not even flying into a swan dive to catch a tricky snitch could compare to the way his stomach fluttered.

Harry felt uncontrollable waves of affection roll through him and before he could stop himself he pulled away. “I love you,” he whispered against soft lips. Draco pulled back slowly, stared into those emerald eyes—and Draco could swear they were made from real emeralds—and silently pressed their lips back together.

He never said it back. Harry was devastated at first, but soon he realized Draco  _ did _ love him, he just wouldn’t say it. Harry couldn’t figure out why, but he stopped caring. He went on telling Draco how much he loved him every single day. He never expected to hear it back.

… …

“I love you and the more I let myself fall into you, the more I’ll hurt when-” Draco stopped talking. He let his hands fall from where they had been cradling his love’s jaw and his eyes plummeted to stare in fear at Harry’s slacks-clad knees.

“When…? When I leave? When I lose interest? That will  _ never _ happen, Draco. You’re it for me. You’re the rest of my life. I’m not letting go until you pry me off.” Draco nodded, but kept his eyes downcast, distant, and Harry put his fingers below his chin, lifting it tenderly. “You have nothing to be afraid of,” Harry promised him.

Draco believed him, despite everything inside him screaming with fear—the anxiety froze his insides; it felt like ice was melting over his rib cage—he knew Harry was being honest.

_ One year later… _

“It has taken me so long to get where I am today. I owe everything to you, love. I’d still be a terrified, lonely mess had it not been for you. You showed me what it’s like to have nothing to be afraid of and I haven’t had to be scared in I don’t know how long. I want this for the rest of my life. Please, will you marry me, Harry James Potter?” Draco’s knee was bruising slowly from supporting all his weight on a pointy rock, but he wouldn’t notice until later when he would see the purple evidence. For now, his attention was completely stolen by the man he was helplessly, deeply, irrevocably in love with. The man who was now open-mouthed, teary-eyed, and nodding.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-” he’d have said it a million more times, but he was cut short by what he swore—much to Ron’s disgust—to be the softest lips in the world pressing against his own.

Harry had been unbelievably happy for a long time, but now he was bursting with it. He didn’t know what to do with himself, his hands were frantic as they traveled over Draco. He knew if his body had seams, they’d be ripping, for he was stuffed to capacity with overwhelming joy. Tears rushed down his cheeks and he had to pull from his fiancé’s lips because a face splitting smile was determined to take over his mouth. He pressed his body as close to Draco’s as he could get and squeezed him, probably too tightly.

“I love you so, so much.” Harry would never tire of hearing it, and Draco would never stop saying it.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Leave comments about literally anything, they will make my day (or more like my life lol)!! Give a lil kudos if you’re so inclined and have a lovely, beautiful night/day/week/weekend/life <<<333


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